


That Which Is Written In The Stars

by Amarantramentum



Series: The stars themselves cannot contain us [1]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark Star, Alternate Universe - Odyssey, Angst, Childhood Friends, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 19:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17628524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarantramentum/pseuds/Amarantramentum
Summary: A boy, promised the stars, falls in love with another so incandescent he could be a star himself.





	That Which Is Written In The Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrostfireEzreal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostfireEzreal/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Usurp](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662274) by [FrostfireEzreal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostfireEzreal/pseuds/FrostfireEzreal). 



> This was written as a companion piece for [@highordinal](https://highordinal.tumblr.com/)'s _[Usurp](https://highordinal.tumblr.com/post/182466487707/usurp)_. As such, the story will be all the better if you go ahead and read it before this! 
> 
> A recommended song to listen to this while you read is _[The Lantern in my Dream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpnPqOyDmxk)_.

“Once I dreamt of stars in sleep’s dark maw.

I asked them, for what do you wait?

For you, said they.

For you.”

 

As a child, Jarvan knew that one day, the stars would all be his.

It was written in the stars, said his father, who explained to him once their name was bestowed upon them by the gods who had blessed them with protection and prosperity both. He would be written into the annals of history for generations to come, said his tutors who told him to stop dreaming of his princess in her tower and instead focus on the studies of rhetoric and arithmetic, for they were the tools he one day would wield. Indeed, even the children around him believed it, gossiping amongst themselves how the Prince cared only for his studies and had time for no one and nothing else.

The stars would be his, but what need had he for the stars? Stars were nothing more than spheres of gas, combusting under the power of nuclear fusion to create new elements from simple hydrogen, which one day would create worlds and minds alike. Just as once, they had come together to create everything he knew today – even his own body. This was, of course, a source of wonder even to the child, but could he sit down with a star and ask it its favourite colour, if he could spar against it, or if it would take his bunny to a new place for the weekend?

Of course not.

* * *

Today, he met a boy like no other. With hair blue as he imaged the sky in old-world books to be and a smile bright as a too-close star, he was positively _radiant_. Jarvan introduced him to his bunny, Luna, and the boy seemed happy enough to play along. Indeed, they took Luna on an adventure, running through the halls of the Emperor’s ship with not a single worry in their mind, the toy in Jarvan’s arms as they darted between guards and officials that were less than pleased their quiet day had been interrupted so rudely.

They could not care less, however, for Jarvan finally had found a friend who cared not that he was born of the Lightshield name.

His name was Shieda, of the family Kayn, but Jarvan did not care for the family from which he hailed. After all, it was such trivial matters that he could not leave his room often at all, for fear the rivalling families might see an opportunity to be rid of the Lightshields’ only heir, or for their children to curry favour with his family.

No, all that mattered to him was the little hand held in his own as they ran through the halls, imagining dragons and princesses and a world for them to save together, hand in hand.

* * *

As children of the Demaxian Empire, they were expected to study a variety of topics, from star-charting to spelling to algebraic functions that made Jarvan pout and glare down at his paper. Here, their paths diverged, for all knew Jarvan one day would be crowned Emperor, selected from all the noble families as the one man fit to rule an empire which spanned across countless worlds. Kayn, however well-trained he was, could never hope to reach such heights.

On the day they first were to go their separate ways, they held hands as they often had as children, and promised the other they would wait as long as needed for the day they were reunited. They swore to always hold the other in his mind, and to remain strong even when studies and training grew too difficult, for Jarvan would become Emperor, and Kayn an Ordinal and his right-hand man.

Yes. They would rule the stars together, standing beside each other not as a lord and his favourite servant, but as friends and compeers with respect and love in equal measure.

* * *

Jarvan looked to the stars whenever he missed Kayn terribly and imagined that somewhere out there in the beyond, his friend was thinking too of him. He imagined his smile, bright and burning away all sadness in his heart, and the future they would rule together. It was not so bad when he imagined it so – with Kayn beside him, he could overcome even the pull of a black hole within its event horizon. With Kayn, he could bring peace to all the worlds within his father’s Empire, and they would be written about in the history books for generations to come, upon the lips of their people until the day the universe went cold with envy.

Indeed, the universe itself would look upon them and envy their love and strength.

The console beside him beeped with a message, and Jarvan found himself being pulled from his hopeful reverie to the screen. Kayn had sent him his latest update, detailing how he found his training and how he had grown stronger in the days since they had gone their separate ways. Jarvan wished desperately to reach out and hold him. Tell him how proud he was of him, for his strength and bravery and how deeply he loved him.

He could not.

“I love you, Jarvan,” the words sounded too tinny from the console’s speakers, but nonetheless, he felt his heart leaping in his chest and a sudden, irresistible urge to hug Luna close to him as he had many times before as a child. It was a soft, warm feeling that spread through his body and coloured his cheeks with the purity and depth of an emotion he did not know how to name.

_I love you, Jarvan_ , he had said, and a part of him wished Kayn would say that to him forever.

The other knew he always would.

* * *

By the time they finally saw each other face-to-face once more, Jarvan stood beside the throne of the Emperor, in the place reserved for the Emperor’s most trusted. How majestic he looked, the years that had passed chiselling his features into an ideal of beauty, despite how he refused to shave the side of his head and adhere to the beauty ideals of coreworld nobility. How beautiful he was, shining bright as if truly, the light were enveloping him with love and promises of future greatness.

* * *

It was not until after the ceremony that they could speak, hidden away in Jarvan’s private parlour with tea and snacks between them. They recounted the days of old, from before they trained, and laughed at how he still kept Luna close to him – a relic of a bygone innocence they no longer could afford. They laughed and hugged, and tears were even shed as they promised each other once more to always stand by the other, love and respect in equal measure in their hearts.

Finally, they were reunited. The Emperor and his favourite Ordinal. Finally, they were reunited, and the universe would tremble and kneel before their radiance, for together, they would be _unrivalled_.

* * *

Kayn’s Ordinal business often took him away from Jarvan’s side for weeks and even months at a time. In the beginning, it had pained him terribly to see off his oldest friend and prayed endlessly beside his bed for the gods to return him home, safe and unharmed. Even now, he could not help but sigh and wish he could keep hm beside him.

It was wishful thinking, he knew, to hope he never would be hurt again, for Kayn’s orders often took him away to deal with the Templars and syndicates which wished only to disrupt the peace within the Empire. Indeed, his father had once told him as a child there was evil in the world, and as Emperor, it would be his duty to protect his people from all that wished to corrupt. He had not understood, then, what that meant, and had accepted his duties with a heart full of hope and a binder of proposals long abandoned.

How terrible the universe could be, to dash away one’s hopes of peace so easily.

Jarvan looked at the framed picture he always had by his desk of Kayn and himself, grinning at the camera in his tearoom after the coronation. The ancient crown sat atop his head now, gilt in gold with details cast in a hand long gone, with methods lost with their maker. The great sapphire embedded within the metal shone bright that day, he remembered.

Bright as their hopes for the future.

He sighed as he returned to his paperwork, for it would not complete itself no matter how much he wished it would. Jarvan may have come to the throne with a heart full of high hopes and eyes unused to seeing the evil in the world, but he saw it now and it pained him to send his people away to deal with them so brutally. If only they would listen. If only they would put away their pride and weapons for even a moment.

Kayn knew, of course. Kayn knew it hurt him so to consider such terrible sanctions as greater penalties and even the annexation of worlds which refused to understand. It was only his job as Ordinal. Jarvan understood too that it simply was Kayn wishing to alleviate his worry for his people the best way he knew how. If only there could be another way to see through their desires for an Empire to span across galaxies and millennia to come…

* * *

Kayn returned as always he did, with a smile upon his lips and stories aplenty to recount to him. Always, Jarvan had a pot of tea and stories to tell him in turn. It felt as if somehow, the universe were finally falling into place. Perhaps it simply was his sentimentality and affection for him that made it so, but it did not matter to Jarvan, who smiled always and hugged him tightly.

Perhaps it was that foreign feeling he finally had learnt to put a name to.

“I love you.”

His greeting to Kayn never changed, for it was true as every other thing between them. It was the oldest sentiment, and one that had remained between them for the decades that now they had known each other for.

It was the oldest sentiment between them, and when Jarvan said it aloud, it was every bit as bittersweet as it was true.

* * *

When Kayn returned from his mission this time, he had changed and Jarvan did not know why. He was angrier and different in a way he could not explain. Indeed, even looking at him made his heart squeeze painfully upon itself, and somehow, it felt as if the world were shattering all about him.

Nonetheless, he imagined it to simply be a figment of his imagination. The culmination of his despair over the state of affairs that somehow had impressed upon his mind that the world was evil and nothing he ever wished to do could fix that.

He dreamt that night that he reached out for Kayn, begging him to remain beside him as always, they had promised to. He reached out for Kayn as if he were a star and Jarvan, a man starved for the light.

But Kayn was incandescent as a star, and stars were never meant to be held by mortal hands.

* * *

The next time he saw Kayn, he was painting the white halls of his ship red as the feeling in his heart that had rooted itself deep in his chest and which now threatened to tear out his breath. The air was thick with the cloying scent of blood, ferrous and _disgusting_ and turning his stomach so he could not help but find a corner to turn into as he retched and wished he could close his eyes to the sight before him.

Nonetheless, he pushed on, knowing that Kayn was somewhere beyond – he had returned from whatever it was that had called him away from his side, and finally was _here_. Delicately, he avoided both spilt blood and viscera, leaning down to close the eyes of the fallen and pray quickly for their souls to be returned peacefully to the gods’ sides before making his way to Kayn.

Kayn – no, _Shieda_ stood before him, with wild, crazed eyes and the scythe he had brought back with him that fateful day when the _Gentle Reminder_ and all Commander Nakuri’s men were slaughtered. He yearned to reach out to him and hold him close – wipe the terrifying smile from his lips and whisper how deeply he loved him – but a deep, primal part of him knew it was impossible now to repair whatever had happened to him in his absence.

He held his lance in his hand and raised it half-heartedly. He had neither the heart nor the will to bring harm to his oldest and only friend.

* * *

There was only pain as he held his hand to his chest, where blood red as emotion spilt forth. It tricked between his fingers, and as he faltered, falling to the ground before finally, he allowed his exhausted body to rest on the cold, hard floor. From where he rested, hunched over and rasping with each breath, he could see Kayn in the periphery, shocked as he spun around and took in his surroundings with a mind much clearer than before.

“I… I knew it was not you,” Jarvan rasped, before coughing violently from the effort. His hand was covered with blood when he looked. “Your eyes… They were clouded… You were not acting yourself.”

He did not need to look over to hear the tears in Kayn’s voice but did so anyway despite the terrible protestation in all his limbs at moving at all. Kayn blamed himself, but Jarvan could never allow him to bear such a terrible burden, particularly by himself. He always had been soft for him, whether because of sentiment or friendship, or indeed the secret love he had carried for him in his heart since they were children – a soft, beautiful sort of feeling he never could say aloud.

Not in that way.

“No, no, no, no- Jarvan! Don’t leave me!” Kayn begged him not to leave, and he knew the desperation in his voice. He held him close, his hands trembling as they held his face close and he pressed his forehead to Jarvan’s in an intimate gesture that felt a pale imitation of the love they always had for each other – bright and honest and true.

No, this was the final wind in a bird’s wings before they landed for the last time. The sigh of an opera singer who knew she had sung her last.

How breath-taking. How tragic.

“What have I done? _What have I done?_ ”

He felt the hot tears on his face and his hand trembled by his side, yearning desperately to reach out and wipe the tears from his cheeks. They felt as if they might burn his cold, clammy skin. They felt as if they were falling stars or the tiniest pieces of a star falling to pieces.

It pained him terribly to move at all, but nonetheless, he managed it, his hand falling heavily against his cheek.

“It is not your fault, Shieda. It was not you – you were not yourself.”

Kayn entwined their fingers together as he sobbed, “I’m sorry. _I’m so sorry._ ”

Jarvan chuckled with all the air left in his lungs. He smiled up at him. He knew, of course, that Kayn would blame himself for all that had happened and wished only to alleviate the pain within him however he could with all the time he had left. After all, he never could blame Kayn for a single thing. After all, he loved him with all the light in his heart and wished to share that with him.

_Let him remember that love, even when I am gone, please…_

“Shieda… I love you. Please never… Forget… That.”

* * *

The deepest depths of darkness reached out with twisted arms through the remnants of a great civilisation. Amongst the metal and wires and bodies long preserved by the vacuum of space, they found the thing they sought – the essence of an Emperor whose Empire had long died, forgotten to space. The tendrils caressed the soul and whispered dark things to it. An ancient incantation in an ancient tongue foreign to this universe.

The soul faltered. A candle to curse the darkness.

No more.

With neither care nor emotion; with neither warmth nor life, a corruptant was born.


End file.
